Division files
by wild wolf free17
Summary: Unconnected drabbles, gen
1. there comes a time for us all

**Title**: there comes a time for us all

**Fandom**: _Push_

**Disclaimer**: not my characters; just for fun.

**Warnings**: spoilers for movie

**Pairings**: one-sided Nick/Cassie

**Rating**: PG

**Wordcount**: 400

**Point** **of** **view**: third

* * *

She first crawls into his bed when she's sixteen, after a horrible vision of the future wakes her up(they all die, again, but this time there is no changing it).

She's been Watching him her whole life, ever since Mom told her(she was three and didn't understand) that he was important, the catalyst, the potential that could save them all.

She could see years ahead, then, before actually _knowing_ what she was doing got in the way. She'd scribble down the visions and Mom would translate, and it was a game. The best game in the world. Something that made her special, made her Mom's baby girl.

But Mom's gone, now, let herself be captured even though _she_ could see every twist and turn of the future. Let herself be taken, after telling Cassie exactly how to get out, avoid the agents that'd be crawling the street, how to see an agent for an agent, a danger for a danger—Mom could have escaped with her. But she didn't. (_You'll understand one day, sweetie. Remember to give the boy a flower_.)

She first crawls into his bed when she's sixteen, when she's just dreamed of his painful and bloody death(again—sometimes it seems that all she sees is the dead and the dying), when she's crying because this time she doesn't see it changing at all.

She's been Watching him her whole life. She _knows_ him. Mom even told her to give him a flower, to make sure they were together.

So she buries her face in his chest and sobs because he's going to die soon(again) and they'll never save Mom(she's gonegonegone) and she'll never get the chance to kiss him.

She's been Watching him since she was three. She's seen him die a hundred and fifty different ways. She's never seen him kiss her. In one future(she never ever told him about) he married Kira and had a daughter named Abigail.

He'll be dead by noon and she sees nothing she can change. Mom could, but Mom's not here(gonegone_gone_).

"Cassie?" he asks, arm settling along her back. "What's wrong?"

She's crying, fingers clenching in his shirt, head against his chest. "Nothing," she says.

"Okay," he mumbles, still mostly asleep. They're safe here, after all. She told him so. "See you in the mornin'."

He'll be dead by noon, she'll die screaming two minutes later, and she's not Mom.


	2. little crystals, titillating the light

**Title**: little crystals, titillating the light

**Disclaimer**: not my characters; title from Sylvia Plath

**Warnings**: future!fic

**Pairings**: none

**Rating**: PG  
**Wordcount**: 90

**Point of view**: third

**Prompt**: forever

* * *

Sometimes she sees her mom, free from Division, happy and smiling. Sometimes she sees an empty bed in her mom's cell, and the guards discussing her escape. Sometimes she sees her mom's wide open, unseeing eyes, and the doctors explaining a bad reaction or an accident (or a suicide).

Her favorite visions are the ones where her mom winks at her and says, _soon, baby girl_.

Those ones, she knows, will come true. The rest are maybes, but when her mom talks to her… those, she tells Nick about.


	3. the birds take back their language

Title: the birds take back their language

Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Margaret Atwood

Warnings: mild language

Pairings: none

Rating: PG

Wordcount: 355

Point of view: third

Prompt: Push, Nick, It hadn't been his fight, but they brought the war to him and now he was in it to win.

* * *

Those first few weeks after escaping, he doesn't sleep. Doesn't do much of anything but run and hide and make up plans on the go, so no one can track or trace or trap him.

Cassie stays with him; everyone else scatters.

Those first few weeks, he survives.

.

He survives. But that's not enough.

He's angry. He's terrified.

He's determined.

Fuck them all, he's not going to hide and shrivel up and die. Not for them. Not for the monsters masquerading as heroes.

He looks at Cassie, curled up around her sketchbook, exhausted no way a kid should be.

He looks at his hands - hands that have never been particularly good or gifted. Hands that are scarred because he hasn't had an easy life. Hands that, for the longest time, were weak.

He curls his hands into fists and thinks, _Fuck them all, they haven't beaten me._

.

He's been running his whole life. He's barely begun to fight. He's never applied himself to anything except getting as far away as he can as fast as he can.

But now…

Cassie wakes up with a shriek, throwing herself off the bed. Nick reaches for her without thinking and gently deposits her back on the bed, all without moving a muscle.

"We have to go!" Cassie says.

They haven't unpacked, so they're gone in under a minute.

.

Nick's anger thrums through him. And his fear. He can't let Division get Cassie. He'll kill them all if he has to.

He'll kill them all.

He's been running from them his whole life, barely surviving, scrapping by with the barest knowledge and use of his power.

They should have left him there.

.

Cassie shows him her latest sketch while they're on the third bus out of town: a puddle of blood and a haphazard hand.

"Where's the rest of the body?" he asks softly.

She shrugs. "You tore 'im apart."

Nick chuckles and settles back into the seat with grin.

.

He's done surviving, running, and hiding. That's no way to win a war.

And this is a war he's going to win.

He's too angry to accept anything less.


End file.
